Chapter 91
Wen Xin noticed the sudden change in the scarred man’s demeanor but maintained a calm expression. “I overheard it from someone. Just curious.”
“That’s all, huh.”
The scarred man visibly relaxed, Wen Xin’s composure easing his suspicions. “But there’s nothing to be curious about. It’s probably just some frightened idiots from the factory making up nonsense after running into something strange.”
He didn’t elaborate, quickly shifting the subject.
Just then, someone waved over from the trucks, calling out to the scarred man: “Cheng Bin, the loading’s done! Ready to head out!”
Cheng Bin replied with a quick acknowledgment, beckoning Wen Xin to join him.
Wen Xin caught the fleeting wariness on Cheng Bin’s face but refrained from pushing further. His question had served its purpose—to confirm that Ah Zi was indeed at the Aurora Armory.
Still, Cheng Bin’s reaction was intriguing.
They arrived at the convoy—a line of about ten cargo trucks parked neatly by the roadside.
Cheng Bin climbed into one of the trucks, grabbed a uniform from the driver’s seat, and put it on. Wen Xin observed that every truck had a driver in the same yellow uniform.
But none of the vehicles departed immediately.
After a while, a group of people arrived, trailing behind some of the drivers. They didn’t look like workers—men and women, mostly young—and, under the drivers’ direction, began climbing into the trucks.
Cargo trucks weren’t designed to carry passengers. These individuals had no choice but to huddle in cramped spaces between the cargo, their squatting positions awkward and pitiable.
One of the drivers noticed Wen Xin and approached, a mocking smile curling on his lips. The scorn, however, wasn’t aimed at Wen Xin—it was directed at Cheng Bin.
“Oh, so now you’re fine with this, Cheng Bin? Acting all high and mighty before, going on about not taking dirty money. What’s this guy got that’s so clean, huh? Smells sweeter, does he?”
Cheng Bin ignored him entirely, opening the passenger-side door for Wen Xin. “Get in.”
Then he turned, kicking the heckler square in the shin.
The man stumbled back, clutching his leg with a grimace. “You—!”
“You want more?” Cheng Bin flexed his fists, his expression dark.
The heckler paled, swallowed his indignation, and stormed off in silence.
The three small mutants—Lan Tuan, Ah Lü, and San San—nimbly hopped into the passenger seat before Wen Xin climbed in after them. Observing the other trucks, Wen Xin noticed similarly dressed individuals boarding the vehicles.
His initial curiosity about Cheng Bin’s lack of secrecy made sense now. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one hitching a ride to the Aurora Armory.
When Cheng Bin joined him in the truck, Wen Xin asked, “Weren’t they going to apply for jobs? What did he mean by ‘dirty money’?”
Wen Xin’s question aligned with Cheng Bin’s earlier assumptions about job seekers, making it an easy segue.
Cheng Bin glanced at the people still clambering into the trucks and hesitated before replying with a sigh. “Yeah, they’re all heading for jobs. But what can someone with no skills do? You’ll see when you get to the factory.”
The engines roared to life, and the convoy began its journey.
The trucks traveled along a highway flanked by dense forest. Tall, lush trees stretched endlessly along both sides of the road.
The path was unusually pristine, devoid of zombies. Even so, the forest was eerily quiet, with no sounds of birds or insects—a silence that felt unnatural.
About half an hour in, they reached their first checkpoint. Armed guards emerged from a nearby watchtower to inspect the cargo but paid no attention to the extra passengers in the vehicles. After a brief inspection, they waved the convoy through.
As they departed, Wen Xin caught fragments of the guards’ whispered conversation:
“Still bringing so many people over? The turnover there is insane. Are they really losing control…?”
“Shh! Keep it to yourself. Just do your job.”
The convoy continued, passing several more checkpoints, each one closer to their destination.
Curiously, the guards at every post shared a similar expression when glancing at the extra passengers—one that resembled pity for the doomed.
After clearing five checkpoints, a sprawling complex emerged on the horizon.
Towering smokestacks reached into the sky, and the steam-powered industrial buildings loomed grand and oppressive. It looked less like a factory and more like a fortress forged from steel.
The trucks stopped at the entrance, where security personnel barred further passage. A group of individuals in dust-proof suits approached under guard escort to inspect the cargo.
Wen Xin followed Cheng Bin out of the truck.
Looking up, he spotted a sign hanging above the arched gate. Though weathered and stained, the lettering was still legible:
“Aurora Armory.”
The security guard had already noticed the unfamiliar faces among the group. Used to such scenes, he barked brusquely, “Hey, you lot! What are you standing around for? Come with me now.”
Cheng Bin, still unloading cargo, wiped the sweat from his brow as he approached.
“Sir, this one isn’t here for a rodent worker job,” Cheng Bin said, motioning toward Wen Xin. “Look, he brought these three along.”
Hearing this, the guard turned his head, his superior attitude softening. That’s when he noticed the three bundles leaping down from the passenger seat of the truck.
The factory had indeed been hiring for “specialized work,” and one of the primary qualifications was the ability to control mutants.
But what methods could humans possibly use to tame mutants?
The guards were familiar with the dark, secretive practices that went into controlling such creatures. Most of the mutants they had seen were either hollow-eyed, soulless puppets or violent beasts perpetually baring their fangs.
Three calm and composed mutants like these were a rare sight—especially traveling together.
The guard’s gaze swept over the three bundles. His expression shifted to skepticism as he reached out to touch one. “So obedient, huh? Did you just dye some cats and bring them here to fool us?”
Before his hand could land, a chill shot up his spine.
The crowd, previously disinterested and indifferent, stiffened. Then someone muffled a laugh.
“Pfft.”
The stifled snickers spread. The guard, bewildered, touched his head only to find it completely bald. His hair had been sliced clean off in an instant.
Ah Lü remained seated, its posture unchanged as it lazily licked its paw.
Wen Xin’s lips twitched slightly. Suppressing a sigh, he scolded softly, “Ah Lü.”
Though his tone carried a reprimand, there was no true anger in it. He looked up at the guard apologetically. “My cat’s a bit mischievous. I’m terribly sorry.”
The guard’s face shifted rapidly, but instead of being angry about his freshly shaven scalp, he forced a flattering smile. “N-no, it’s my fault for being presumptuous. Please, this way.”
Wen Xin crouched down to let the three bundles leap into his arms. He glanced back and saw Cheng Bin hesitating, his lips moving as if wanting to say something.
Wen Xin smiled warmly. “Thank you. If I need help again, I’ll come to you.”
Cheng Bin visibly relaxed.
The rest of the group, unlike Wen Xin, received no special treatment. After their brief laughter, they returned to their lifeless expressions and were herded like cattle by another guard toward a different direction.
Wen Xin watched them walk off and asked, “Where are they being taken?”
The guard, having already filled in his own narrative about Wen Xin’s status, straightened up respectfully. “Oh, them? Those people are rodent workers—headed to the contamination zone, of course.”
“Contamination zone?” Wen Xin repeated, unfamiliar with the term. “What is that?”
The guard explained, “It’s the old factory district. The virus contamination there is pretty severe. About a month ago, the factory captured a strange zombie and brought it back for study. But before research could begin, people living nearby started falling ill one after another. We’ve since cordoned off the area.”
“But evacuating the people didn’t help much. There’s a ton of high-precision equipment left in there, so we’re hiring rodent workers to retrieve it.”
Of course, the “high pay” for such jobs was a lie. The virus contamination was far more deadly than the guard let on. Most of the desperate refugees who came here had no other options. With even the smallest incentive, they were willing to risk their lives.
The guard had no intention of sharing the grim truth, instead lavishing praise on the factory while sycophantically assuring Wen Xin that he had come to the right place.
Suddenly, Wen Xin stopped in his tracks, his clear eyes fixing on the guard. “You mentioned there are many mutants inside the contamination zone?”
“Y-yes, but they’re all untamed. They’re just waiting for someone like you to handle them…” the guard said nervously. “Why?”
Without answering, Wen Xin turned on his heel and walked toward the group of rodent workers.
